Schuetz, the landscape painter, had perhaps the best of the matter.  He was thoroughly master of the Rhine country, and of the sunny tone which animates it in the fine season.  Nor was he entirely unaccustomed to work on a larger scale, and then he showed no want of execution or keeping.  His paintings were of a cheerful cast.

Trautmann Rembrandtized some resurrection miracles out of the New Testament, and alongside of them set fire to villages and mills.  One cabinet was entirely allotted to him, as I found from the designs of the rooms.  Hirt painted some good oak and beech forests.  His cattle were praiseworthy.

Junker, accustomed to the imitation of the most elaborate Dutch, was least able to manage this tapestry-work; but he condescended to ornament many compartments with flowers and fruits for a handsome price.

As I had known all these men from my earliest youth, and had often visited them in their studios, and as the count also liked to have me with him, I was present at the suggestions, consultations, and orders, as well as at the deliveries, of the pictures, and ventured to speak my opinion freely when sketches and designs were handed in.  I had already gained among amateurs, particularly at auctions, which I attended diligently, the reputation of being able to tell at once what any historical picture represented, whether taken from biblical or profane history, or from mythology; and, even if I did not always hit upon the meaning of allegorical pictures, there was seldom any one present who understood it better than I. Often had I persuaded the artists to represent this or that subject, and I now joyfully made use of these advantages.  I still remember writing a circumstantial essay, in which I described twelve pictures which were to exhibit the history of Joseph:  some of them were executed.

After these achievements, which were certainly laudable in a boy, I will mention a little disgrace which happened to me within this circle of artists.  I was well acquainted with all the pictures which had from time to time been brought into that room.  My youthful curiosity left nothing unseen or unexplored.  I once found a little black box behind the stove:  I did not fail to investigate what might be concealed in it, and drew back the bolt without long deliberation.  The picture contained was certainly of a kind not usually exposed to view; and, although I tried to bolt it again immediately, I was not quick enough.  The count entered, and caught me.  “Who allowed you to open that box?” he asked, with all his air of a royal lieutenant.  I had not much to say for myself, and he immediately pronounced my sentence in a very stern manner:  “For eight days,” said he, “you shall not enter this room.”  I made a bow, and walked out.  Even this order I obeyed most punctually; so that the good Seekatz, who was then at work in the room, was very much annoyed, for he liked to have me about him:  and, out of a little spite, I carried my obedience so far, that I left Seekatz’s coffee, which I generally brought him, upon the threshold.  He was then obliged to leave his work and fetch it, which he took so ill, that he well nigh began to dislike me.